


Some By Virtue Fall

by miraworos



Series: Mira's Ineffable Husbands Ficlets [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:08:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22983034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraworos/pseuds/miraworos
Summary: Normally, Crowley couldn't care less what the world, above, or below thought of him or any of the decisions he'd made in his long life. But Aziraphale... Aziraphale mattered. His opinion mattered. And his knowing the date of Crowley’s angelic demise was a hard pill for the demon to swallow, especially when trying to smile encouragement at the angel's excitement over the discovery.~~~~~On the anniversary of the Fall, Crowley meets Aziraphale at a pub for what could very well be their last supper.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Mira's Ineffable Husbands Ficlets [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621357
Comments: 20
Kudos: 116
Collections: Celestial Harmonies Issue 1





	Some By Virtue Fall

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet is the second of two submissions to [Celestial Harmonies](https://celestialharmonies.webnode.com/) fanzine. Definitely check out the rest of the zine, for more awesome Good Omens fic and art!
> 
> Thanks again and forever to my lovely beta [Z A Dusk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snakeandmoon/pseuds/Z%20A%20Dusk).

Crowley ambled down the pavement, tangled in thought, toward the pub where he was meeting Aziraphale. He was annoyed that he'd had to walk three whole blocks from where he'd parked the Bentley. Aziraphale had decreed they take a break from miracles for a while, because  _ darling, we have all we need _ and  _ if we are truly to live among humans now, we need to take care to behave more like them  _ and then also,  _ keeping off head-office radar is never a bad idea, you know _ . Crowley was convinced there was more to it, but the angel wouldn't admit it.

Crowley wasn’t familiar with this particular pub, which was saying something, given his familiarity with most of the pubs in the East End. Must be new. He hoped they’d good scotch, as he was not in the mood for the generic nonsense served in most new establishments.  _ Chains _ , the humans called them, and Crowley thought it fitting. You'd have to be in chains to appreciate them.

Crowley stopped to tie his shoelace, irritated all over again at not being able to miracle them to behave. Especially today. Anniversary of the Fall, and all. 

Aziraphale had worked it out a few months back, using star charts that Crowley himself had drawn up for him. When Crowley had discovered the purpose behind the angel's project, he was far from pleased. Aziraphale having a date connected with Crowley's greatest sin was the last thing he needed. A yearly reminder of the fact that Crowley was cast out from grace. _ Unforgivable. That’s what I am. _

Normally, Crowley couldn't care less what the world, above, or below thought of him or any of the decisions he'd made in his long life. But Aziraphale... Aziraphale mattered. His opinion mattered. And his knowing the date of Crowley’s angelic demise was a hard pill for the demon to swallow, especially when trying to smile encouragement at the angel's excitement over the discovery.

It didn't help matters that Crowley couldn't seem to shake the strangeness of their meeting at the duck pond the day prior. Aziraphale had seemed distracted, out of sorts, as if hiding something. But he wouldn't say what was on his mind. The only conclusion Crowley could draw was that it had to do with the impending anniversary of the Fall. It had been one thing to know about it intellectually, Crowley supposed, and quite another to be face to face with it. 

He and the angel had been exploring a romantic relationship, if that was what it could be called, since the world hadn't exploded. They’d been taking things excruciatingly slowly, in Crowley's opinion, for the last seven months or so. Aziraphale had been reluctant to progress beyond profession of feelings until Christmas-time, when he'd gone positively giddy over slipping his hand into Crowley's and leaving it there as they strolled through the market. While Crowley would never dream of pushing Aziraphale into anything he wasn't ready for--he'd learned over the years that doing so was the surest way to set their relationship back centuries--he did very much look forward to the day Aziraphale was ready for the next step.

But. With the weight of his Fall settling onto his shoulders, he couldn't help but worry that Aziraphale was having second thoughts. Or third thoughts. Actually, it would be more like three-hundredth thoughts at this point. In any case, the angel could easily be rethinking this whole  _ our side _ thing for the millionth time, and Crowley couldn't do a thing about it. Couldn't even blame him, really. Crowley was a demon and was fine with that, he honestly was. He'd come to peace with it millennia ago. But he couldn't force Aziraphale to do the same.

Maybe it was time to give the angel an out.

Crowley looked up at the sign over the door to the pub.  _ World's End _ it said.

"Seems appropriate," Crowley said glumly as he pulled open the heavy oak door.

"Happy birthday, Crowley!" came a roar from within the pub, startling the demon so much that he instantly miracled himself up into the nearest chandelier, hissing in defiance.

"Crowley, darling!" Aziraphale called from somewhere within the crowd. Crowley couldn't see him yet, but his voice alone was enough to at least slow Crowley's galloping heart. "Please come down, dear."

The angel finally managed to push his way to the front where Crowley could see his white-gold curls, fussy coat, and anxious expression.

"I'm so sorry we startled you. We were just trying to surprise you."

_ Oh, for Satan's sake. _

Crowley unwound himself from the light fixture and dropped to the floor. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked, both cross and completely flummoxed, and perhaps slightly embarrassed about the chandelier business.

Book-girl came forward then, placing a supportive hand on the angel's arm. Crowley narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Aziraphale planned it," she explained. "For you. For your birthday."

"I don't have a birthday," Crowley said. "Angels and demons weren't born. We materialized from the firmament."

"Well, happy materialization day, then," said Adam, stealing a bit of cake with his fingers.

"Wait..." Crowley said, finally starting to put a couple of pieces together. "Angel, does this have to do with the anniversary of the Fall?"

Aziraphale stepped toward him again, fiddling with his cuffs nervously and clearing his throat. "Yes, well, sort of. I mean. Well...er..."

"Spit it out, angel," Crowley said, eyeing the crowd. He  _ really _ did not want to have this discussion in front of witnesses. And--bloody Hell--was that Shadwell?

"We thought-- That is,  _ I _ thought...it might be nice to-to celebrate your, you know, transformation, as it were, with some cake...and-and presents."

Crowley was even more confused. "You wanted to  _ celebrate _ me becoming a  _ demon _ ?" he said, reflexively hissing the sibilants.

Aziraphale's eyes widened, his expression one of barely disguised dismay at Crowley's reaction.

"You see, i-it's just that, I...er... _ we _ love you so much. Just as you are. And w-we wanted to show you that. You matter.  _ You _ ...do."

Crowley stared at Aziraphale, at a complete loss for what to say. He was certain he hadn't actually breathed for the entire last exchange, so there was not much chance of getting his vocal chords to work at this point anyway.

Book-girl walked toward him, her eyes a little dewy, and handed him a puzzle piece. "You gave us knowledge," she said, kissing him on the cheek.

"And the stars," said the woman Aziraphale had possessed--Tracy something, he thought. She handed him a tarot card and kissed him on his other cheek.

"And you saved the planet," Newt said, handing him a small rock with a smiley face painted on it. "Hope you don't mind if I skip the kissing. I'm a little shy."

Crowley gaped at them--a whole crowd of people he barely knew, who were all there to do what exactly? Crowley's brain was having a hard time processing.

"And you give excellent advice," Adam added with a cheeky grin. "Can we get on with the party already?"

Aziraphale stepped forward then, blushing furiously and darting bashful glances at the others in the room.

"One more thing," the angel said, thoroughly invading Crowley's personal bubble and looking up at him through his eyelashes. "You also stole my heart, and then saved me with it."

He reached up and touched Crowley's face, sliding his fingers along Crowley's cheek to his hairline and cupping his jaw. Then he leaned forward and brushed his lips ever so lightly across Crowley's, causing a spontaneous combustion inside Crowley that had nothing to do with hellfire. Rather, the sudden storm of elation crashing all his senses, demonic and otherwise, felt most akin to the fierce joy he’d experienced creating the stars.

After an astonishing moment that distilled the entire length of six millennia into the measure of a single heartbeat, the angel pulled back a mere inch from Crowley’s face. 

"Did I do it right?" he whispered, soft as a white down feather.

Without conscious thought, Crowley snaked his arms around Aziraphale, pulling him flush against his chest. Then he captured the angel's mouth in a searing kiss that left him, and hopefully the angel, deliriously dizzy. 

The entire pub broke into whoops and cheers and riotous applause, but Crowley heard none of it.

"You did amazing, angel," he said, pressing his forehead to Aziraphale's and beaming like a bloody idiot. 

So this was it, then. This was what being a demon could get you, if you were wily enough to snare the heart of an angel, and you were wise enough to recognize when the angel snared yours right back. Not bad. Not bad at all.

“Hang on,” Crowley said, suddenly realizing something. “How long have you been planning this?”

“Oh, months, I suppose,” Aziraphale said, a dreamy look on his face. “Why?”

“The miracles?”

The angel looked confused at first, then caught on. “Oh, that. Well, I couldn’t have you popping in unannounced when I was in the midst of sensitive communiques.” 

He waggled his eyebrows at Crowley, and the demon nearly discorporated from sheer desire.

“You-you really are a fucking bastard,” Crowley said, kissing his angel softly. “A lovely, ethereal, disaster of a bastard.”

“Well, I say,” the angel replied, blushing as he pulled back and dragged Crowley by their joined hands toward the cake table.


End file.
